


Comfort in You (Fluffcember 2020)

by Curlsandcollege



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cute with a hint of sad for flavor, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluffcember, M/M, Many Couples, Melancholy, Minor Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Petra Macneary, Minor Caspar von Bergliez/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Minor Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary, Minor Dorothea Arnault/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Minor Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Minor Linhardt von Hevring/Lysithea von Ordelia, Minor Mercedes von Martritz/Dedue Molinaro, Mostly Felannie, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Sylvain Felix Ingrid Friendship, happy endings, minor ingrid brandl galatea/claude von riegan - Freeform, mostly canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 8,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27825379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curlsandcollege/pseuds/Curlsandcollege
Summary: It's cold, it's dark, let's cheer up with some Fluffcember 2020.Stories including but not limited to:Mercedes tricks Dedue into caring for himself with tea.Annette talks about her first kiss.Marianne's owl friend rats out Dimitri's insomnia.Felix throws himself into a snow bank.Dorothea sings her friends a lullaby.and moreUpdated weekly.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Marianne von Edmund
Comments: 35
Kudos: 58





	1. Dedue/Mercedes- Sharing a Drink

**Author's Note:**

> Fluffcember 2020 let's go! It's wholesome, it's silly, it's occasionally sad (but always a happy ending)! 
> 
> Some housekeeping for the collection:  
> I'm going to post a week at a time, and each chapter will have the prompt and the pairing as a title. 
> 
> Any couple that appears three times or more in the collection is tagged under "Relationship"  
> Otherwise the couple will be tagged as "Minor"  
> While most are relationships of a romantic nature several are about friendship, because I love friendship!

**Sharing A Drink**

**Mercedes/Dedue**

For a man as blindly devoted to ensuring the happiness of those he cherished, Dedue refused to be cared for in any circumstance. It was the hallmark of their relationship, two people who lived their lives largely for others forging a bond for themselves. They could be selfish in love, have something only for themselves. It was beautiful.  
  
But Dedue was so stubborn at times. All the time really. And he had a _cold_ and all Mercedes wanted to do was care for him. She was a healer for Serios sake!  
  
“My love you’re hoarse, your voice sounds ragged. Please, let me make you a potion.”  
  
“That will not be necessary. I will rest my voice.”

He insisted on silence for the rest of the evening. He had a spark of mischief as he answered anything she said with a shrug and an occasional gesture to his throat. Mercedes usually loved this side of him, the malicious compliance that helped him find his place in the court of Faerghus. But on the receiving end? It was frustrating to say the least.  
  
Two could play at this game.  
  
Mercedes bustled around gathering up her things, selecting a blend she knew would pair well with honey, and began heating her teapot up over the fire.  
  
Dedue sat in an arm chair, working on his latest knitting project- some kind of cover for one of his window plants to help it maintain warmth through the winter.  
  
The man cared more for his plants than he did his own wellbeing.  
  
A drop of water bubbled out of the kettle onto Mercedes’ hand and she snatched it away. Although they were just hours from sleep she mentally wrote off hearing the minor burn. It would be fine, a waste of magic to fix what could heal in a few hours. The magic would distract Dedue away from his project.  
  
She prepared the tea, and then loudly and dramatically as possible said, 

“Oh, so silly of me. What a waste.”  
  
Dedue’s gaze met hers and Mercedes gestured to her teapot.  
  
“I made too much. It’s a waste of good tea. Will you take some? I’ll feel so silly and spoiled for wasting it if I only drink half the pot.”  
  
She’s a bad actress, but the point comes across.  
  
Dedue’s lip quirked up but he steeled his face back into stoicism. He nodded and accepted the cup. His hands are a bit cold, he really isn’t feeling well.  
  
The warm drink will help.  
  
Mercedes drowned the tea in honey for his throat. He wouldn’t accept the help for his own sake. To help her? Without complaint.  
  
Her silly stubborn man. 


	2. Annette/Felix- Reassurances

**Reassurances**

**Felix/Annette**

“You’re sure no one will hear?” Annette looked positively miserable. They were both soaked through in the summer rain.   
  
Felix assumed watch with Annette would be one of his more pleasant experiences on this march, but no, Verdant Rain moon lived up to its name. Annette didn’t like to complain, she liked solutions.    
  
Felix hoped the firelight and his hood blocked his face well enough as he blushed, “After everything we’ve been through you don’t trust me to guard your secrets?”    
  
Annette pulled her own hood tighter over her head and the firelight caught her growing smile. Then she sang. 


	3. Ashe/Petra- Handholding

**Handholding**

**Ashe/Petra**

Ashe was always an affectionate person and casual touch never bothered him. He had fond memories of his mother grabbing his hand to show him the proper way to chop an onion or fold in eggs to batter. Nobles, however, were incredibly weird about touch. He’d learned to keep his hands to himself in the past few years even though he still struggled to find ways to show he cared when he couldn’t hug or put a hand on someone’s shoulder.   
  
He missed home sometimes, his siblings especially. Not that he didn’t enjoy the academy and the friends and everything he was learning. He wasn’t the best at… well anything if he was being honest. But he tried.   
  
He should have lied when the professor asked him to do this. Denied his skill. Ashe was ahead of his classmates in exactly one area and it felt almost shameful. He dreaded needing to demonstrate.   
  
Lockpicking class was quickly unraveling into chaos. There was more than one wary look shot his way, why was an archer, the adopted son of a lord, teaching everyone how to pick locks? Where would one even learn such a thing? 

Felix grew increasingly frustrated as he just couldn’t get it, and snatched his hands away from Ashe’s when Ashe just wanted to help. He mumbled, “No I’m close just let me do it myself.” Even as Ashe saw he was bending his lockpick past the point of salvation.   
  
Ashe apologized quietly and raced away, Felix would figure it out or come to Ashe privately when he failed the Thief exam.   
  
“Ashe, could I be asking for assistance?” Petra’s voice rang through the classroom. He knelt next to her as she deftly tried to pick her practice lock. She wasn’t bad honestly, but her fingers weren’t quite in the right place.   
  


Petra didn’t mind Ashe’s corrections- appreciating a physical direction over a verbal one. Her hands were warm and with a little pressure on her ring finger,   
  
“Oh! You’ve done it!” Ashe was thrilled, the first of his students succeeded. He could do it! She could do it.   
Petra beamed and looked up at him, a job well done.   
  
His hand still rested on hers. She didn’t pull away.


	4. Annette/Felix- First Kiss

**First Kiss**

**Annette/Felix**

“Are you going to be weird about it?” Annette folded her arms over her chest, feeling a pinprick of anger rise from the back of her neck. Felix could be so competitive about things sometimes.   
  
Felix raised an eyebrow, a sure sign that he was in fact rising to her challenge, “Are you?”    
  
“Fourteen.” Annette answered, her mind casting back to her school of sorcery days. It was a common trick, teaching someone to blow a small wind spell demanding a certain pursing of the lips. Pretense for shy mages-to-be to sneak kisses. If you closed your eyes, you wanted to be kissed. If you kept them open, stay away. It was all so awkward back then but it felt romantic at the time. Cute, in hindsight. 

Felix couldn’t hide his shock, and covered his face with his hand. Still, his hair was still up and his bright red ears gave him away. 

  
Annette couldn’t help herself, “You are being weird about it! Felix we don’t need to know every last bit about each other you know. I shouldn’t have told you. What, were you sixteen?”    
  
Felix shook his head. Well it wasn’t younger than that was it? Not from how he was reacting.    
  
“Eighteen.” Annette guessed again. She hadn’t heard any rumors of him kissing anyone at Garreg Mach, but still, her crush was pretty well known. Maybe someone hid it from her. 

Another no.    
  
“Twenty then?” Annette asked. Fhirdiad was still active, he was traveling, maybe he met a girl in training.    
  
Felix made a low noise of discontent in the back of his throat, turned his gaze to the floor and mumbled, “Twenty three.”    
  
Twenty three? He was twenty three now… Oh.  _ Oh.  _   
  
“So I was?” She asked quickly, already knowing the answer.    
  
Felix brushed his bangs out of his face, nervous energy radiating off, “Yeah. You were.”    
  
She couldn’t tell if he was upset or embarrassed or nervous. He looked almost half pleased that she knew. Felix didn’t keep secrets well. Why hadn’t he just told her?    
  
To his credit, she never would have known. It was sweet, a quick brush of lips outside of the greenhouse. He kissed her first, she was still half convinced she was reading far too much into it, and that he actually hated her.    
  
She figured out quickly that definitely wasn’t the case. She'd lost count of how many kisses they'd shared even just a few months later. 

Annette couldn’t help the smile that broke out across her face, “You know I’m kind of jealous. I’d had so many that didn’t mean anything,”    
  
“So many?” Felix asked with an edge to his voice that Annette couldn’t help but laugh at. He was going to be weird about it. Silly Felix.    
  
Annette backed down, sensing his discomfort, “Not so many. Three at most.”    
  
“At most?” 

She corrected, “Three exactly. Then you. And yours is the only one that ever mattered.”    
  
And to prove her point, she leaned up and kissed him again. 


	5. Caspar/Hilda- Reunion

**Reunion**

**Caspar/Hilda**

Holst’s offer is a demand. Caspar, in honor of his unwavering protection of the Goneril family will be granted Knighthood despite having spent only two weeks total on Goneril lands. The implication being  _ time’s up little sister. Come home _ . Still, she can’t help but feel lighter when Holst swings her around bellowing about how his sister is home at last. She worries, of course, that Caspar will chafe but she forgot how much he thrives with purpose.    
He recounts his day and he looks so happy talking about how he’s protecting his new home Hilda just has to kiss him. 


	6. Dimitri/Marianne- Sunrise

**Sunrise**

**Dimitri/Marianne**

Marianne’s favorite bird at Castle Blaiddyd is an owl who nests off the balcony of the royal chambers. She’s grumpy, usually just waking up when Marianne steps out to calm down before bed.    
  
The royal chambers do not present much of a view, a small, private courtyard that’s easily defensible. Marianne has never been disappointed though, it’s private and quiet and has grown into one of her favorite places to just breathe.    
  
The owl greets her, and Marianne asks how her babies are doing. _Well, minus some disturbance from the large one._   
  
The doors open once again, and Dimitri’s voice cuts through the birdsong, “I hope I’m not interrupting.” He knows her habits well, has never once questioned her or made her feel odd for her friendships with birds.    
  
Marianne turns to face Dimitri, pleased to see his hair loose and his eyepatch put away from the evening. He intends to say here, then. “My friend says you didn’t sleep last night.” Marianne tries not to fret. He’s busy and things weigh on him, still. He has enough trouble sleeping without her making him feel bad about it. He doesn't deserve that. Just... she worries.   
  
Dimitri looks guilty, “I should stop imposing on your friend, I’ll take my walks elsewhere then.”    
  
She knows better than to ask him to sleep when he feels a certain way. His insomnia is not for a lack of effort. And the owl is the surly type of bird, wont to complain.    
  
“No, if you like it out here you should stay. You’re not the one intruding.”    
  
“My subjects, including the birds, should feel free to live in their homes undisturbed by my pacing.” 

“But this is your home as well. I simply… There’s not much room out here." It's hardly ten steps across for her, less for him. "Are you worried if you pace the hallways you’ll wake someone up?”    
  
Dimitri is not quiet, his footfalls are heavy under the sheer mass of himself. Castle Blaiddyd makes all sorts of noises, and he is not the loudest thing in the night. She can prove that to him, though she's a notably light sleeper she usually misses him coming in and out of the bed. He cares for her, he's mindful of her rest.    
  
Dimitri smiles, “No, well yes, but that is not why I come here.” 

  
He wraps his arm around her shoulder and she suddenly forgets to be cold. He turns them gently to a slope in the roof, pointing to a break with open sky.    
  
“Right there, the very first rays of sunshine always come in right there. It helps me to know when a new day begins. I like to sit out here and when I’m too lost in myself the sun reminds me to move on.”    
  
The owl will find other things to complain about, but they learn to share the space. 


	7. Sylvain, Felix, & Ingrid Friendship- A journey

**A Journey**

**Sylvain, Felix, & Ingrid Friendship**

Sylvain has no idea what is waiting for him at Garreg Mach. Still, he writes letters for weeks, coordinates his plan, blows off his father, then leaves. The five year reunion, in the middle of a war, what a laugh. What a complete waste of time. A promise to a dead prince.  
  
He’ll pick up Ingrid and then Felix, and they’ll ride to Garreg Mach together. 

He’s grateful after all this time to have them. He’s never been one to hope or to try, to take swings at things that could be easily blown off.  
  
He’ll laugh and say that Ingrid is strong arming him into it. That Felix hasn’t had fun since Dimitri broke and Sylvain can make fun nearly anywhere. That it’s been five years since he’s seen Mercedes or Annette and surely they’re both even more beautiful than before.  
  
That nobody has heard a breath from Dedue but he always kept his promises to Dimitri so if he’s alive maybe…  
  
No. He’s not one to hope.  
  
He’ll make the trip for his friends. If it’s pointless then he’ll have had one last week with his best friends, just the three of them before meeting up with the rest of their little lions.  
  
This is something he can do that will make him feel better without hurting someone else. Novel. 

On the first night just the three of them, camping on the side of the road somewhere in Fraldarius territory, Felix drinks too much from Sylvain's flask and pulls Ingrid’s hair. “It’s dangerous like this. It’s a clear weak point.”  
  
“I’m not that close to my enemies Felix. I dart in, strike, and pull up.”  
  
“Fight me. I’ll show you. Try to run away.”  
  
She does, running up with a stick rather than a lance like they're kids all over again, and Felix proves his point, grabbing a fist full of hair. When did he grow so quick? 

“You need to cut it.” Felix says again, tugging gently as Ingrid fumes, still caught by her braid. She hates being wrong. It's fun to watch from his spot on the sidelines.   
  
“Cut yours then. Yours is no better.” And to prove her point she attacks with her fingers lacing into his bun. “Easy target. Handhold. And you don’t have the advantage of a mount, nearly anyone you fight is going to be taller than you Felix.”  
  
They’re both struggling, hands in each other’s hair in the snow, refusing to budge one inch. They're ten years old again, bickering like children, fighting for fun rather than glory or survival.  
  
Sylvain missed this.  
  
Felix frowns and snatches his hand back, pulling out a small blade from his coat pocket. He unravels his hair from the knot on his head.   
  
There's a moment of tension where both of them seem on the edge of words, offers. Finally, Felix hands the blade to Ingrid, “Fine. I’ll go first. If you cut me I'll shave you bald.”  
  
  
They both end up with terrible haircuts in the end. Felix’s hair sticks out in all directions and when he tries to pull it into a bun it won’t quite cooperate.  
  
Ingrid’s hair is shorter than either of theirs, and she pulls a ribbon off her Pegasus and starts braiding it out of her face.  
  
It’s the funniest thing Sylvain has seen in years. 


	8. Ashe/Dedue- Artwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe's taste in art is tacky.

**Artwork**

**Ashe/Dedue**

There is always something new at Ashe’s inn every time Dedue manages to find the time to visit. Ashe reinvests every penny he makes back into the cozy space. It’s a game, look for the new thing in the overcrowded space. It’s the kind of nice surprise that Dedue forgets is possible when so much of his life is noticing the bad and dangerous.   
  
He found the new addition almost instantly this time.   
  
Ashe has finally settled on a painting for over the fireplace mantle. He wanted a painting specifically, rather than a tapestry or decorative weapon, something that told a clear story. The whole inn tells a story.   
  
Ashe spends a great deal of time in the market patronizing the stalls of Duscurian merchants.   
He buys his spices and dishware there, obsessed with the details. Dedue understands that Faerghans still only feel comfortable patronizing the inn because sweet, Faerghan born Ashe is at the helm- but still, he’s heard rumors that interest in Duscur cuisine has increased and so have the sales of the merchants from his homeland.   
  
Dedue overhears things at the palace and he’s realized that it’s becoming a bit of a status symbol to employ a Duscur born chef. He overhears things within his own community and likes the jokes about how the Faerghans will need a fainting couch when they realize the true secret is simply to season one’s food.   
  
His feelings are mixed on the whole endeavor.   
  
Prejudice will not be solved with food alone. There is still progress in a weird kind of way.   
  
The inn strikes a level of nostalgia in him because Ashe is obsessed with getting the details right. “I want everyone to know when they’re eating exactly where it came from, exactly how beautiful and important and worth preserving Duscur is. Not just the food.”   
  


The painting does not seem worth preserving to Dedue. Maybe Ashe won’t ask his opinion if he’s lucky.  
  
It’s definitely authentic. He recognizes the style, not that his family could have afforded something like that. It’s just… ugly. Painfully ugly. It’s a scene from the Duscur creation myth and it's an eyesore.   
  
Ashe bounds out of the kitchen with the kind of smile that melts Dedue’s heart. “Oh! So you’ve noticed the new acquisition!”   
  
Dedue nods. It’s hard to miss.   
  
Ashe dries his hands on his apron, and goes in for a quick kiss hello. He’s warm from the kitchen and smells like cinnamon and is as beautiful as he ever is, “I bought it off the sister of the joiner who I commissioned a few months back. She said there was no room left in her home for it.”   
  
Dedue wonders if she too hated the style- quite possibly. Dedue always preferred carving or weaving as far as traditional handicrafts went. Duscur loved its colors- all of them. Every last one. To a fault.   
  
“I think it’s really eye catching don’t you think?” Ashe’s eyes glitter as he looks up into the painting and Dedue wonders, not for the first time, if his partner is truly this enthusiastic about life or just has terrible taste.   
  
He hopes it’s the former. The latter option is an insult to himself and Ashe insisted he stop doing that. It feels like a betrayal even to think such things in his presence.   
  
Ashe’s taste in most things is fine. Food absolutely. His literature leaned a bit lewd for Dedue’s taste but he could appreciate a good adventure. Ashe picked friends wisely and loyally. Aesthetics? Apparently questionable.   
  
“It looks expensive.” Dedue manages to say.   
  
“Not terrible, could have been worse. And something like this is a permanent fixture. I decided it was okay to splurge.” 

  
Dedue stops looking at the eyesore of a painting and down to his favorite sight in the world. He won’t spend much time looking at art here anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my husband has this cultural garment that his grandmother gave him when he came of age in our community. He loves it, I think it's atrocious.


	9. Ingrid/Sylvain- Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ingrid's had a lot of dreams.

**Dreams**

**Ingrid/Sylvain**

Ingrid has had so many distinct pictures of what she’s wanted her life to be she can no longer keep track. Books are surely responsible for some of the sillier flights of fancy. There were three moons as a teen where she wanted to be a pirate. Glenn laughed at her, but in the way that made you feel special, made you know he agreed, “I offer you a Duchy, you want a pirate ship.”   
  
Then Glenn is gone and Ingrid wants justice and fairness and her dreams circle knighthood. Marriage leaves the equation entirely, no need to dream of something that would be forced upon her in no short order. She claims the scattered bits that she can find, serving the crown, leading a battalion, flying on her Falicorn and making a difference.   
  
Then the war is over and she’s in love and the man she loves rules over a piece of land where the fighting never truly stopped. She marries and settles down though she doesn’t feel like she’s settling. Life’s just different, and maybe after chasing a dream she can feel content having something else.   
  
Then a new dream is hatched.

Whispered while Sylvain thinks she can’t hear late one night, “Please. Please do not have a crest. I will love you either way but… For your sake.” 

It’s unspoken between the two of them. A life for their future child free of the obligations and burdens of crestedness.  
  
Their prayers are answered. Then they pray again- silently, independently, eyeing the other and knowing deep down that they agree. 

  
  
Their third child is born and is once again declared uncrested. They both breathe a sigh of relief. They thought they wouldn't get lucky again.   
  
Sylvain cries. He always does when their children are involved. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be happy about this. But I am. I can’t help that.”   
  
Ingrid wraps her arms around him and lays a kiss on his forehead, “I know. I want it too.”   
  
The five Gautier children are whispered to be failures, but their parents couldn’t be prouder. Happier. No one can understand how, but nobody can see the stories of the Margrave and Margravine Gautier.   
  
Ingrid’s had a lot of distinct pictures of her future, and never in her wildest dreams would this one have occurred to her. But this is the one she’s chosen. It’s the one she loves.


	10. Lysithea/Linhardt- Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysithea thought having her crests removed would make her feel better.

**Recovery**

**Lysithea/Linhardt**

Lysithea thought that having her crests removed would make her feel better. 

Not that she’s ever been one to run laps around the house, but nobody had warned her that _stairs_ would suddenly be out of the question. Each movement of her body leaves her breathless and fatigued. Her limbs are suddenly heavier than lead and not being able to do anything when mentally she knows the world is wider than it’s been in a decade is frustrating at best.   
  
She’s going to live. 

This is a temporary condition where she will need to rebuild her strength and that’s all. Linhardt is unsympathetic by even his own low standards, “Rest is one of the great pleasures of life Lysithea. I for one think we both deserve a long rest for say… the next half a year.”   
  
He’s found in her bed more often than his own these days. He arrives in the morning with books or tea, slides in next to her, asks one or two questions about how she’s feeling, and then proceeds to try to entertain her for an hour at a time interspersed with naps. They read a lot. They sleep a lot. Her parents have stopped asking questions about the nature of well… anything they’re doing because frankly they don’t have the answers themselves. 

Lysithea complains about their idleness, “You have better things to do than sit with me Linhardt.”   
  
He disagrees, not even looking up from the tome he’s chosen to read today. He reads half a dozen books a week, throwing them aside as _boring_ far too easily. “I truly don’t Lysithea. Nothing else has piqued my interest. So for now, I’ll rest with you.”   
  
They’re Lysithea and Linhardt and they’re friends and colleagues and maybe their feelings run deeper than that but Lysithea refused to acknowledge any of that for so long that she’s not sure how she would.   
  
Her body isn’t ready to live yet. As it turns out, neither is her heart.   
  
So, week by week, Lysithea stubbornly tries to find Linhardt something to do. He’s granted her the literal gift of an actual lifetime, she doesn’t want to tie him to her like this. 

Surely he has better things to do than sit with her while she’s too weak to do anything. Surely he’s just humoring her.   
  
She works up to walks outside- short ones, but they find a new spot to rest underneath a tree on her parents’ land. Linhardt carried their books for the day and handed a new one to her, “I can’t make sense of this one. You should give it a go.”   
  
Lysithea reads through the tome and then reads it again. Something tingles in the back of her mind about the crest of Cichol having multiple distinct inheritances unrelated to previously documented lines over the years but she read it so long ago she can’t piece it together. She had a theory about that once, back in school.   
  
“There’s a book about this at Garreg Mach, in the Abyss I think.” Lysithea mumbles, annoyed that her head feels so foggy these days. She used to retain everything. It’s the idleness. Even at her sickest she’s always been sharp but now… Months on end she’s done nothing but rest. It’s dreadful. The worst part is Linhardt seems unbothered by it.   
  
“Ahh, we’ll have to go to the Abyss then. I’ve hit a stopping point on this research, but it’s an interesting mystery. All roads do seem to lead there in the end.”   
  
Lysithea’s heart catches to see that spark in Linhardt’s eye again, the one where something is so interesting that it begins to supersede everything. He’s obsessive like this, one could dare even call him motivated.   
  
And her heart breaks- because he’s here because he’s bored and content to stay that way but a better option has revealed itself and so he’ll leave. A Linhardt in motion remains in motion until naptime.   
  
“Oh. Well you’ll have to let me know.” Lysithea says, trying to not sound as bitter as she feels.   


Linhardt actually puts his book down to look at her, “You’ll need to read it too of course.” His eyebrow is raised the way it does when he’s working through a spell equation.   
  
“You’ll send it to me then?” Lysithea tries not to feel jealous of the adventure Linhardt is about to have. The resources.   
  
He huffs out a little laugh that makes Lysithea feel like he’s talking down to her. She’s almost angry enough to yell until he says, “No. You’ll come with me.”   
  
“You know I can’t. Don’t say things like that.” Travel? She can hardly walk five minutes on flat land. What is he talking about?   
  
“You can’t today. Or tomorrow. So we’ll wait. We can do that now you know.”   
  
She scoffs, yeah of course she knows that. She just… Lysithea doesn’t know how to hope and especially doesn't know how to plan.   
  
“And what if I’m like this forever? What if I never get better?” She says it before she can stop herself. It’s not Linhardt’s problem. He’s saved her life, that’s enough. He’s her friend, that’s enough.   
  
Life has made her greedy for more.   
  
Linhardt actually smiles at her fear, “Then we’ll figure something out. Nothing could be half as hard as removing a crest from a body.” He leans over and kisses her on the cheek, “Mysteries are interesting, but not half as interesting as working through them with you.” 


	11. Dorothea/Petra- Swimming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothea can't swim very well, but she's happy to watch.

**Swimming**

**Dorothea/Petra**

Dorothea can’t swim very well. She’s never enjoyed failing spectacularly at things, especially when others are watching. So she’s avoided learning. She can save her life, doggy paddle her way to the shore or grab onto something.   
  
Swimming in the ocean is terrifying.   
  
On the other hand, Petra’s never been more in her element. She splashes and dives underwater for so long that Dorothea, an opera singer, panics she’ll run out of air.   
  
Then she breaks the surface holding onto a gift, a new beautiful object that Dorothea just has to see. The ocean is grander the finest jewelry. Out here it sparkles in the sunlight, clear and blue and gorgeous.   
  
She's moved to an island. Dorothea will need to learn to swim, if only for self preservation. Petra always drags her in eventually, holding her up in the water as if she’s weightless. Assuring Dorothea that she is truly safe, that the ocean spirit has two faces and today it is generous.   
  
For now, she can sit on the beach and watch the woman she loves do a thing she truly loves to do. It’s a performance on par with the greatest opera. It’s so beautiful, Petra’s so beautiful, she can move Dorothea to tears. 


	12. Annette/Felix- Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix is, objectively, tone deaf.

**Music**

**Annette/Felix**

Felix is, objectively, tone deaf. 

Annette fills their home with music, always humming or singing something to fill the silence. Felix loves it but he never joins in. Annette understands, and it’s her own form of wifely torture when she commands he duet. He responds to the request with abject horror followed by a sarcastic, “It’s your funeral.”  
His singing makes her smile for it’s awfulness, and it becomes their own private joke. 

  
Annette sings for Felix when she’s happy. Felix sings for Annette in strange moods only, “No reason to listen to me sing unless you like cruel and unusual punishment.”   
  
She loves it.   
  
Their children join in as soon as they can speak to varying degrees of success. Every member of the household learns at least one of her songs, most know more. The songs spread to town, then run off across Fodlan.   
  
Claude comes into a summit singing a tune and Annette almost shouts at him to ask where he learned it.   
  
In the span of ten years Fraldarius becomes known for its music. The irony never lost on Felix, who knows that the tone-deafness of the Dukes of Fraldarius is a genetic condition that might go all the way back to Kyphon. Their son is afflicted, though he doesn't realize that yet.   
  
Annette has mixed feelings about her accidental contribution to the arts of Fodlan, “I just… I miss the days when my songs were private and mine. The lyrics are all wrong in Leicester, Hilda sang me her version that she learned in a tavern there and it’s just…”   
  
Felix half smiles as he suggests, “If you want to kill a song, just have me sing it.” Their children will leave a room if Felix starts singing. It’s been a useful tool over the years.   
  
“Then they won’t know words _or_ the tune Felix!”


	13. Marianne/Dimitri- Dessert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri's favorite food is one they share.

**Dessert**

**Marianne/Dimitri**

Marianne has always enjoyed the small pleasures in life. She’s much more content to untangle Dorte’s mane than wear a fine ballgown. 

  
She loves sharing private meals with her husband together in their rooms. Dimitri is free to choose the strangest combinations known to man, foods too spicy for others to eat, dishes chosen more for their pleasing texture than an actual taste.  
  
Saghert and Cream is a mutual love. “I can’t remember how it tastes precisely but I remember how it made me feel as a child.” It’s always delicious. She loves it all the more for his joy. 


	14. Annette/Felix- Hair Styling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix's hair is pretty. 
> 
> Currently it's pretty silly.

**Hairstyling  
  
Felix/Annette**

  
  
“Don’t. Say. Anything.”    
  
Annette loved her husband who was grumpy and often disagreeable. Who took things very seriously even when very little was at stake. Who refused to defer to chivalry or tradition over his own judgement. Who was quick to lose his temper even with the people he loved but not her.    
  
Not their children either.    
  
“Do you need help getting that out?” Annette couldn’t contain her smile.    
  
Felix’s hair was braided into a deeply elaborate style adorned with bows and flowers. He sat at Annette’s dressing table staring dumbfounded into the mirror. Every few seconds he would lift his hand up to the style and place it down resigned- deciding on another entry point.    
  
He looked ridiculous. No one would ever follow a word he said again if they saw him like this.    
  
“I… They were so pleased with the results.”    
  
“I’m pleased with the results.” Annette hummed, picking up a scissor and watching Felix’s shoulders tense in anxiety. “The ribbon, I’m not going to touch your hair if I don’t have to.”    
  
Felix’s hands gripped a brush, knuckles white.    
  
“Breathe Felix. It’s coming out, see?” The first section freed, Annette tried to wrest the hairbrush from her husband’s grasp.    
  
“I have it,” He mumbled, working through the mats and tangles. “I don’t know why you weren’t subject to this torture.”    
  
“Your hair is prettier than mine.” Annette explained, pulling out a flower that spilled pollen through her husband’s scalp. He’d need a bath.    
  
“That’s untrue, you have lovely hair.” Felix protested, eyes meeting hers in the mirror.    
  
“Ahh but mine is greying and shoulder length and frizzy. Yours is longer and smoother and shinier. Who wouldn’t want to play with it?”    
  
Felix rolled his eyes, “Then cut it off. Free me from this torture.”    
  
She placed a kiss on his cheek, “Never. I like your hair just the way it is… Well… The way it will be in a few minutes.” 


	15. Felix/Annette- A Fancy Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix throws himself into a snowbank

Felix wasn’t sure if he should go to a healer. Manuela was notably sloshed and flirting with a guard somewhere on the outskirts of the party. Mercedes was dancing with the professor. Marianne hadn’t shown up.    
  
He’d rather die than ask Linhardt.   
  
He was too hot. He was going to be sick.    
  
His heart was in his ears and whatever Sylvain was trying to say to him simply could not get through the pounding. 

He swallowed thickly. Someone must have poisoned him. Claude, maybe Hubert. Dorothea was still pissed at him, he wouldn’t put it past her.    
  
It couldn’t have been the punch. It was fruit flavored and overly sweet, he didn’t drink more than one sip to make Annette happy.    
  
Annette. 

Felix scrunched his face up and tried to compose himself. This was stupid. He’d danced with girls since he was a kid. He’d never felt this weird about it.    
  
Not that dancing with Annette made him feel weird. They were friends, kind of. Classmates at the very least.    
  
He wiped his sweaty palms on the pants of his dress uniform. It was way too hot in the ballroom. That’s all. He was overheated. Air. Air would help.    
  
Turning heel he caught a flash of red hair and his heart sped up even faster. Annette smiled, meeting his eye and giving him a little wave.    
  
He returned it. He wasn’t rude.    
  
Well… He wasn’t rude to her.    
  
His stomach churned and tightened and Felix realized that he was seconds from melting into the floor. He’d be a puddle of embarrassed awkward nerves and there would be no one to blame but himself. 

There was nothing special about dancing with a girl. The dress uniforms were thick, he’d hardly felt the curve of her waist even as he rested his hand there.    
  
As far as dance partners went Annette was good. He’d give her that. She hadn’t won the white heron cup for nothing. She was a good height, they were well proportioned to each other. He wasn’t accustomed to feeling tall, or like his hands were big. His dwarfed hers. He wasn’t used to feeling less graceful than someone, but Annette  _ floated _ . 

The balcony wasn’t cool enough. He missed home. It was never too warm at home. There was always a river to jump in if things were desperate. 

  
Things were desperate.    
  
Felix gave up. He walked to the edge of the cleared path and flopped face first into the nearest snowbank.    
  
He laid for ten seconds, trying to catch his breath as the cold stung his face, and then rolled over onto his back. The night sky was pretty, clear and full of stars. 

  
Felix rubbed his hands over his face and mumbled, “I hate myself.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a direct reference to my fic: Dancing (around each other)


	16. Mercedes/Dedue- Horseback Riding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hatred was mutual

Dedue did not grow up around horses. Duscur, at least around his hometown, was too hilly and densely forested for horses to be any faster than simply walking. 

In Fhirdiad, Rufus discussed having Dedue apprentice under a farrier. It was a poorly disguised attempt to have him leave Dimitri’s side.   
  
He’d been an apprentice blacksmith before, horseshoes didn’t seem too difficult a project.    
  
Smithing wasn’t the issue. The horses were so terrified of Dedue that he lasted hardly one day.   
  
The dislike was mutual. Dedue spent most of his life in Fodlan trying not to scare others unless they were a threat, but horses made him so uneasy that no matter how deliberate his actions were, both he and the beast would end up recoiling within minutes.   
  
Stable Duty at Garreg Mach was a cruel joke. Dedue was not one to complain, but there were infinite places he could be more useful. Still, the war effort demanded everyone stretch beyond their abilities. Even so, he dreaded finding his name on the schedule every week. The professor refused to give in to the idea that he might one day make peace with horses.    
  
At least the human company was decent. 

  
“So here we are again, the remedial riding class of Faerghus.” Mercedes greeted him, handing him an overfull feed bucket.    
  
Horses seemed to be the only creatures in Fodlan who were not enamored with Mercedes von Martriz. They disliked her brushing, and refused to eat in her presence. No matter how many times Ingrid or Sylvain tried to walk her through the basics she couldn’t keep her balance and cast spells simultaneously. She’d failed the Holy Knight certification almost as many times as Dedue failed his Great Knight exam. 

  
“I do wish we could simply admit defeat on this particular endeavor.” Dedue said simply, tensing at the ruckus the horses were already kicking up. He hadn’t even entered the stables yet.    
  
Mercedes smiled, “Oh where’s the fun in that? Sylvain says horses can smell your fear and respond in kind. Maybe today we should be brave.”    
  
“Sylvain has no fear. As a healer you should see that clearly.” Dedue watched Sylvain tumble from his warhorse almost daily. That didn’t look terribly appealing. And Dedue had even farther to fall.    
  
Her laughter startled the horses even more, “Yes I suppose that’s rather true. Well, I’m braver when I know you have my back. You do a good job protecting me from all sorts of beasts, Equine included.”    
  
Dedue looked at Mercedes’ smiling face and decided that stable duty had exactly one positive element.   
  
“You’ll heal me when my horse bites me then?” Dedue said, taking a deep breath and trying to think of nicer things. Flowers. The smell of a well seasoned stew. Mercedes’ smile.    
  
“He always does. I’ll be here.” Mercedes gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and he felt a bit of the warmth of her magic flow through him.    
  
Maybe today he could be brave.    



	17. Dorothea/Sylvain- Jewelry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gift left behind makes an appearance once again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my ultimate "Make your own food" pairing and BABY WE'RE EATING TONIGHT

Dorothea sold most of her Jewelry in the first five years of the war. She’d cared for a group of orphans and her pretty baubles were more valuable as warm blankets or a new pair of shoes than a trophy from an ill advised relationship.    
  
Jewelry was security, she’d learned that from other women in the opera company. Words were meaningless because they were worthless after the relationship was over. She’d hated herself for her materialistic nature but at the same time, her baubles saved lives.    
  
She missed some of the finer pieces. When the professor reemerged Dorothea had only a few costume trinkets that were less than worthless. They looked pretty, but it was an illusion. Cheap and pretty.    
  
Well didn’t that make perfect sense? Jewelry reflected the owner.    
  
She could hate herself and see the utility. It could be both.    
  
Her dorm room felt overly quiet- she wasn’t used to sleeping without the snores of a dozen little kids to lull her to sleep.    
  
A persistent knocking disturbed her just as she got comfortable.    
  
“Thea! You awake?” Sylvain’s voice cut through his knocking and Dorothea was glad there were few commoner women left at the Monastery. He’d wake up everyone with the racket he was making.    
  
Dorothea opened the door and leaned in the frame, blocking his entrance. “I am now Sylvie. What can I help you with?”    
  


She tried not to flirt. She would not be receptive to his usual late night advances. She came to him, not the other way around. She needed the upper hand when dealing with Sylvain, it was the only way their friendship could balance. 

He held too many cards and that made him dangerous.    
  
“I couldn't wait until morning, I’m too excited!” He was smiling boyishly, his hair an absolute disaster and Dorothea tried to stop herself from smiling.    
  
“I’m happy to see you excited. What is it?” Dorothea could see that he was hiding his hand behind his back. It was something then. A letter from home? Another terrible proposal he wanted to read through with her and laugh?    
  
He brought out a tiny box, “I bought this back when we were in school. I meant to give it to you at graduation but uh… Edelgard got between us. So jealous, that one. She never liked me enticing you to transfer to the Blue Lions. Started a war to stop me, very rude of her.” He grinned and Dorothea stared at the present.    
  
“It’s a gift?” She asked quietly.    
  
“Yes! Please, open it! It’s um… It’s not much but I saw it and thought of you and I thought it was lost. I guess no one bothered to go all the way to the end of the hall to ransack for valuables.”    
  
“Valuable?” She asked.    
  
“Not too much. A few dozen gold.”    
  
Dorothea rolled her eyes, how very like him to think a few dozen gold was nothing.    
  
She took the gift, “You buy things for all of your friends?”    
  
He shook his head, “No but um… You’ll see.”    
  
She opened it slowly, letting the pretty wrapping fall to the ground. It was a small glass on the end of a chain, the kind used to closer examine tiny texts in ancient tomes.    
  
“Oh. How useful.” Dorothea said, holding it up. It had golden flowers carved along the edge of the glass, impossibly small and delicate.    
  
“Yeah… I was thinking back about how... How do I say this without you slapping me?”    
  
Dorothea raised an eyebrow, giving him space to think. She liked it when he struggled, it meant he was really trying.    
  
“It was kind of stupid back in the day but… I saw it and thought about the time we talked about how we can try to see the real person underneath everything. It’s silly now that I’m saying it.”    
  
Dorothea’s heart caught in her chest. She remembered that conversation. When Sylvain was being awful she thought back to it- He acted the way he did because he was playing a part. 

  
His costume was more expensive, but they were the same deep down.    
  
“I love it. Truly. Thank you. I’m glad I can have it now.” She looped the necklace over her head and added, “And that you see me too.”    
  
He smiled softly, and stared at the necklace for a brief moment before meeting her eyes, “I always see you Thea. Don’t need a glass for that.”    



	18. Annette/Felix- Bed Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're going to be late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My outline for this drabble was, in its entirety: IDK, go wild.

They were going to be late.    
  
Felix was kissing her lazily, taking his time without a real destination. He pressed wet kisses down her neck as if they didn’t have responsibilities. As if they shouldn’t have been up an hour ago.    
  
As if there were anyone else in the world but the two of them.    
  
Annette ran her fingers gently through his hair- to stop? To encourage? She wasn’t sure.    
  
Felix shivered, taking a reprieve to breathe against her chest.    
  
Annette smiled. She’d never been one for a lay in before she got married.    
  
It was never so enticing before.    



	19. Dimitri/Marianne- Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If one is going to kiss publicly , they'll need to practice until they get it right.

Dimitri had long stopped counting the kisses he had with Marianne. There were important ones. Those he remembered and drew on when he was feeling low. His thoughts always verged on obsessive, and it wasn’t lost on him that he had enough good things that he didn’t need to count anymore.    
  
Kisses, up until now, had always been a private thing.    
  
“I think I’m going to mess it up.” Marianne hid her face in her hands.   
  
They were to be married in the morning and there was so much more to be nervous about in his mind than simply kissing.   
  
Marianne liked to fret, but she so rarely dwelled on what was truly bothering her. This wasn’t about kissing in front of a whole cathedral full of people. This was about him, them, their marriage.    
  
Dimitri tried to breathe through his bad thoughts, taking Marianne’s hand in his own to center himself.    
  
Then, before he could help himself, he said,    
  
“If you’re nervous we could practice.”    
  
She blushed, but knelt up, grasping his face gently and bringing her lips to his own chastely. He rested his forehead against hers, and whispered, “Once more, Beloved. Just to make sure.”    
  
He smiled and met her eye, leaning forward to kiss her once again.    
  



	20. Ingrid/Claude- Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude never played a game he wasn't sure to win.

Ingrid wasn’t sure when she started trusting Claude. She’d joined the Golden Deer class to keep Sylvain out of trouble and was more likely to roll her eyes at Claude’s antics than agree with whatever stupid scheme he proposed.    
  
They usually worked. That was the worst part. Claude was annoying, but he wasn’t stupid.    
  
Dumb luck did not equal success in her book and she was not going to pretend like she understood anything that went on in Claude’s weird mind.    
  
By the time she found herself dressed in an Empire uniform raiding an un-seigeable fort she realized that there was something to Claude’s leadership.    
  
When she fought with him about smiling and why she, in fact, did not need to do that to be likable by someone like him, she realized there was something to Claude as a person.    
  
Trust though… Claude always made it very clear that he was three steps ahead. If you thought you were on steady footing with him he’d say just one thing and you’d realize he never played a game he wasn’t going to win.    
  
Ingrid didn’t want to like it. She wasn’t entirely sure when she stopped liking people for their morals and started liking them for their messy selves.    
  
Looking at her childhood friends tackle each other to the ground on the training field she realized maybe she always had. 

Claude was full of secrets, and he wasn’t shy about letting her know that. The first time she heard one of the Almyran’s call him  _ Khalid  _ her heart skipped. Just who was he?    
  
She confronted him about it and he laughed, “Well yeah, different languages. Can’t go around Fodlan with a name like that can I? And you want to hear an Almyran try to say Claude?” He didn’t explain any further. Ingrid didn’t ask him to.    
  
Whatever was going on he’d tell her if it suited, and otherwise he’d leave her guessing. 

After it was over, on their last night all together Claude snuck into her tent and Ingrid threatened him with all measure of bodily harm before he handed his bow to her.    
  
Then he smiled and asked as if it were the most casual question in the world, “Want to come meet my parents?”    
  
“Meet your parents?” Ingrid repeated. She had suspicions about his parents, but she didn’t voice them to anyone. Sylvain listed off ten theories but one in particular stuck, found in a history book of Almyra that  _ of course _ he owned.    
  
Claude nodded, “Yeah! It’s pretty far away but if we fly we’ll be there in a week or two.”    
  
Ingrid’s stomach dropped as her mind charted the distance. Well then. Point to Sylvain.    
  
“Is this where you tell me you’re Almyran?” She huffed, running her fingers over Failnaught. The texture was disturbing, still, it felt safe. Even knowing what it was.    
  
Claude was shocked into silence for ten glorious seconds. Then he began to laugh so hard he cried. “When did you figure it out? And why didn’t you  _ say _ anything until now?”    
  
His real laugh was nice. He snorted if he really got going.    
  
Ingrid shrugged, “It’s obvious to anyone with eyes.” And a best friend who was obsessed with World History.    
  
He laughed even harder, bending over and clutching his stomach. “You! I always knew you would keep my secrets! Sneaky Ingrid. Ought to make you my spymaster. You’ll get anything out of anyone if you yell enough.”    
  
She frowned, “I didn’t yell at you.”    
  
He grinned. “Not yet but the night is young. So, Almyra, with me, then?”    
  
There was something he wasn’t telling her. He wouldn’t be this calm if his soul were laid completely bare.

He’d tell her eventually. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my husband's absolute favorite pairing in the game and I find that both confusing and delightful.


	21. Sylvain & Annette Friendship- Chores

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain and Annette can't focus until Felix's desk is clean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not canon that Felix is messy, but it should be.

If there was one good thing about Felix’s insistence on training in every free moment it was that Sylvain could go through his desk in the interim. Felix was a clutterbug, keeping every spare sheet of parchment and half full vials of sword oil that he never discovered until they  _ broke _ and ruined his notebooks.    
  
Annette joined in sometimes. Felix’s desk was an absolute disaster and it stressed her out to know something was  _ so  _ dirty in their classroom.   
  
“You think it stresses you out? I share the desk with him!” Sylvain’s cubby was perfectly organized in sharp contrast to Felix's pigsty.    
  
“I just hate it. How could he let it get like this?” Annette sighed, wiping down the surface.    
  
“He doesn’t notice. He’s always been like this.” Sylvain noted, holding up a half completed spell equation before crumpling it up and throwing it in the bin.    
  
Annette shuddered, “How’s his dorm room?”    
  
Sylvain shook his head, “I always assumed he just wanted a hazard to keep his father out of his room in Fraldarius but um… It’s bad. The dining hall is going to run out of plates at this rate.”    
  
Annette gasped, frowning as her mind cast pictures. “We still have a little bit before class… do you want to…” She shouldn’t ask such things, she wasn’t supposed to be upstairs in the dorms at any rate. Especially the boy’s part of the hall.    
  
Sylvain nodded solemnly, “If only for the dining staff.”    
  
Annette nodded, liking the way Sylvain thought, “Right. For the dining staff.”    
  
They both slept better that night.    
  
Felix arrived to class the next morning thrilled he’d found a stash of arrows he thought he’d lost. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope everyone enjoys


End file.
